Hooks
by calder's circus
Summary: Close friendships are tested in high school after Taichi and Sora end their brief romance. Yamato tries to piece together what happened. [sorato]
1. Chapter 1

**Hooks**

I.

The flower shop was closed, but the cooler lights still cast an eerie glow onto the dark sidewalk. Yamato chained his bike to a post and squinted at the storefront, looking for movement inside. Seeing nothing, he dashed across the empty street and peered inside for a better look.

Autumn flower arrangements stood in neat rows across the marble countertops. The sturdy wooden shelves held a variety of decorative vases and smaller potted plants. Even from outside, Yamato could hear the faint hum of the coolers when pressing his ear to the glass. A large fern hung down from the ceiling above the front counter, which was considerably messy compared to the rest of the small shop - notebooks, books, an empty cash drawer, unfinished arrangements, and a great deal of dirt obscured the light marble of the countertop.

Taking a deep breath, Yamato knocked loudly against the glass pane of the door.

Nothing happened.

Yamato knocked again.

This time, a silhouette of a woman appeared, framed by the door of the back office. Yamato waved her over and let out a sigh of relief that created a foggy circle on the glass. A line of irritation appeared on Sora's face as she fussed with the locks on the door of the shop. A bell chimed overhead after she pulled the door open to allow Yamato entry.

"Hi," Yamato said.

"Hi," Sora replied. "What are you doing here?"

Yamato realized with a start that he didn't have an answer to this question. "Ummm… well the show just ended, and I thought I'd check and see if you were headed to Taichi's party or not. Or something," he finished, feeling embarrassed. He ran a hand through his windblown blonde locks, in a futile attempt to make them lay flat.

Sora sighed, eyeing the mess on front counter. "Like I told you, I can't go out tonight." She circled around behind the counter and began reshelving some of the books. "My mom needed me to close the shop, and…" She trailed off. "And I'm not really interested in going to another one of Taichi's raging parties right now."

Yamato chuckled. "Yeah, I understand. I'm surprised he let you off that easy; he practically had me in a headlock getting me to promise to show up after the show."

Sora turned her back to Yamato to retrieve a roll of paper towels from a cupboard. Still not facing him, she said again, "Why are you here, Yamato?"

Yamato fidgeted with the strap of his guitar case. He felt insecure answering her question truthfully. Taichi and Sora had broken up almost a month ago after a short and clearly unreciprocated courtship initiated by Taichi. Even though Taichi was still reeling from the effects of Sora ending the relationship, it was clear as day to Yamato that Sora didn't want to be in that relationship (or any relationship, for that matter). She had thrown herself into her studies, the tennis team (and her role as team captain), and working at the flower shop. She still maintained and cherished her close friendships - even sustaining her friendship with Taichi, somehow - but she rarely was seen at parties or other social events now. She had changed.

And as much as he didn't want to admit it, Yamato felt he had changed, too. Having his two closest friends break up was awkward, but negotiating it was rather easy. Taichi was a gregarious personality. Even when hurt, he bore his soul to Yamato. Taichi had a reputation at school for being genial and animated, and the break-up hadn't destroyed that - in fact, it seemed to Yamato that Taichi had doubled down on going to gigs, soccer matches, and throwing raucous parties for his friends at school. Yamato felt closer to Taichi more than ever, but often at the expense of his tenuous friendship with Sora.

In the past month, Yamato had only biked home from school with Sora twice (once an almost daily event), and they rarely shared more than a few words at lunch or after school... until she had sought him out about returning the ticket he had given her earlier. He was disappointed that Sora wasn't able to come to his band's concert, but even more disappointed when she gave him the demure excuse that her mother was out of town and she had to close the flower shop instead that evening. In retrospect, he had let his disappointment show clearly, strumming on his guitar absentmindedly, glibly accepting her apology, and shutting down the conversation prematurely - until she had said _it_.

Thinking about the exchange made Yamato anxious. She had looked just as anxious as he had felt in that moment. It had been one of the first times that they had spoken in private after the break-up. _Until now_ , thought Yamato, _when I decided to barge into the flower shop without a plan. Maybe I'm the one responsible for this distance. I've created a barrier of self-preservation._

"I wanted to know what you meant when you said…" Yamato thought back to the encounter again, trying to recall her parting words exactly.

Sora interrupted him. "I think you know what I meant," she said quietly. She leaned against the cooler behind the front counter, crossing her arms but not meeting Yamato's eye.

"No, I really don't," Yamato insisted, sucking in his breath as a hangnail caught onto the strap of his guitar case. He unstrapped the guitar and gingerly rested it against the counter. "When you said, 'it was always you,' did you mean that I'm responsible for everything? You breaking up with Taichi? You changing, somehow?"

Sora didn't answer. Many of the shops across the street had closed for the evening, making the night even darker. Even though they stood apart from each other in a darkened room, Yamato could see her jaw clench against his words.

"How am I responsible?" Yamato asked again, trying to make his question sound less demanding.

"You're not responsible in the slightest," Sora responded, her voice still unnaturally quiet. "I'm not mad at you, or Taichi, or anybody... really I'm not."

"Tell me what's going on, then. Why can't you-"

"Because I'm trying to avoid you."

Sora's declaration made the air in the room feel much colder to Yamato. "So your coping mechanism is… avoiding one of your best friends," he scoffed.

Sora finally looked up at Yamato, and nodded. Yamato opened his mouth to speak, and stopped.

 _'It's always been you.'_ Sora's words rang through his head again, this time with a new meaning.

 _Sora was in the business of self-preservation, too_ , thought Yamato. _She was avoiding me because… she had feelings for me, and not Taichi?_

This new conclusion sent shockwaves of emotion down Yamato's spine.

 _If Sora did have feelings for me like I have for her… well, that's the best possible outcome I could hope for, right?_

 _And you'd be betraying Taichi in the process if you acted on these feelings._

 _He'll get over it. Maybe…_

 _Sora's been avoiding you because even if she likes you, she doesn't want to be in a relationship with you._

The inner conflict was becoming unbearable. Yamato walked up to the front counter, now cleared of flowerpots and papers but still quite covered in dirt. "As your friend," he started, softly, "I can't let you keep avoiding me."

Sora uncrossed her arms and took a small step back, pressing herself against the wall of the cooler. "That's not your decision to make."

"Yeah, I'd say that it is, at least partly my decision."

Sora looked away from him. "Please just... leave me alone," she muttered. "I'll talk to you about this some other ti-"

She stuttered, watching in horror as Yamato planted his hands on the countertop, vaulting his legs up and over and meeting her in the narrow space behind the counter. His hands and legs were black with soil for the effort, but he grinned widely. He stepped up to Sora, blocking her movements by placing his hands on the cooler on either side of her. Even though her facial expression was still one of complete shock, he had never seen her look so beautiful. The blue glow of the cooler's lamps made her bright auburn hair look almost violet. Her mouth hung slightly open - probably a reaction to his gymnastic performance. Her perfectly heart-shaped lips were the same sandy pink color as her pale freckles in this light.

Yamato inhaled deeply, realizing he was standing in the place where the scent he had always associated with Sora originated from. He had always just characterized her scent as "outdoorsy." But now he smelled the brightness of gardenias and jasmine along with the richness of fresh soil and cut wood in her hair, on her neckline, and even in her sweat.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

His smile faded slightly as he composed himself, though he did not release her from his blockade. "It's always been you, too," he murmured.

Her eyes grew wide. "Yamato, you can't expect-"

She stopped mid-sentence again as Yamato brought his thumb up to her cheek.

"Sorry, you had a bit of dirt." Yamato smiled. He didn't retract his hand, because Sora's hand had moved to cover his own. Her eyes bore into his own, waiting for him to react as her hand lightly touched the skin on his own.

He felt as if his body moved agonizingly slowly as he slowly drew closer to Sora. Her hand clasped his more tightly. Still pressed against the cooler, Sora raised her head slightly to allow Yamato to close the small gap between their lips.

Yamato had been kissed before. Contact had always been initiated by the girl (two out of the three instances, a drunk fan of the band at a party). While exciting, he had always felt rather embarrassed afterward for some reason. He had tried to date one of the girls he had kissed at a party, but found her to be more enamored by his small-time celebrity than interested in getting to know him as a person. The relationship had ended as quickly as it had started.

Now, with his hand tangled in her unnaturally glowing hair, was not the time to think back on past experiences, although he couldn't help but try to draw some sort of comparison. But when Sora's tongue slid across his lower lip, he realized there was nothing to compare to this.

Sora had reacted slowly, painfully, to his kiss. She allowed him to set the rhythm and tone of it, until she didn't - her hands snaked up his back to draw him in closer until his body was pressed against hers. She gasped at first when he slid his tongue into her mouth, but quickly responded with vigor, intensifying the kiss and causing Yamato growl slightly.

His other arm had wrapped around her waist, and in their struggle to be closer to each other her shirt had ridden up slightly. Yamato's fingers found the exposed skin and raced across it, eventually sliding his thumb into her belt loop to keep her from escaping. Not that he thought she would - she had spread her legs slightly to maintain her balance, but also to wrap her left leg tightly around his, preventing him from escape as well.

Yamato began to think that he might die if the kiss ended. He was sharing his breath, his livelihood, with Sora - if they broke off, where would his breath go? She kissed him deeply, and with her entire body, and he responded with more passion than he had ever mustered for anything in his life. His tongue found hers again, and upon contact she elicited a small moan.

Yamato had felt like he was in control of his body until that moment. After Sora moaned deeply again in response, he knew he was doing a very poor job of concealing his lust for her. To his surprise, her hips moved first - she pulled Yamato into a tighter embrace, deepening the kiss.

Suddenly, the glass door rattled like thunder in the quiet shop. Yamato leapt backwards, hitting his elbow painfully on the countertop. Sora stumbled forward, but quickly regained her balance, straightening her shirt in the process, equally startled by the sudden loud noise.

Yamato turned to the door. Three teenagers were standing with their faces pressed to the glass, grinning and making faces. They were dressed as if they were going to a club later - _hopefully not Taichi's party_ , Yamato thought, becoming momentarily worried, though he didn't recognize them from school. They rapped loudly on the door again and one wolf-whistled loudly.

Sora turned to face the back of the store, her cheeks growing red. Yamato strode down the aisle and waved them away with a few well-placed obscenities, and after a few moments the gaggle grew bored and continued down the street.

Yamato looked at Sora and smiled. "Umm…"

Sora smiled back, though he knew his best friend well enough by that point to see the deep worry in her expression.

"Do you want to go get some coffee?" Yamato asked, feeling rather stupid for suggesting it. His phone buzzed wildly in his pocket. Happy for the distraction, he pulled it out and his stomach turned when he saw the notification.

 _ **Saturday 9:01 PM**_

 _WHERE R U_

"It's Taichi, isn't it?" Sora said absently.

"Yeah," Yamato stammered. The room felt eerily cold again. "I was supposed to be at his party an hour ago," he added upon noticing the time.

"You should go, then," Sora asserted. "Please."

"Yeah," Yamato agreed, feeling rather ill at the thought of encountering Taichi after what had just happened. Taichi would most likely be quite drunk and consequently emotional at this point in the evening. He shot off a quick reply to Taichi and then pocketed his phone. "We should talk… soon."

"Yeah, we will," Sora agreed. "I won't avoid you, I promise." Her tone made it seem like she was trying to crack a joke, but her face looked miserable.

Yamato nodded, suddenly feeling miserable as well. "Good," he said. "I'll… I'll see you later then."

"Here," Sora said, suddenly become animated. "I need to unlock the door again." She walked quickly to the front of the store. Yamato watched as her trembling fingers turned the latches in the old door. He picked up his guitar and strapped it on his back, exiting as Sora pulled the door open for him.

"Thanks," Yamato said, stepping outside. It had gotten much colder since he arrived. His breath made small clouds in the night sky. "'Bye, Sora." He tried to impart as much meaning into his farewell as he could muster, looking her straight in the eye. But she did not return his gaze.

"Goodbye, Yamato," she replied, giving him a small wave and closing the door.

Yamato crossed the street and unlocked his bike. Taichi's party was in a different neighborhood, at least a half-hour away by bike. His teeth chattered as he set off down the empty street. After a moment, his phone buzzed in his pocket and he yanked it out violently, nearly colliding with another biker who swore at him loudly.

Seeing that his notifications were just from Taichi (again) and one of his bandmates, Aoto, who was likely at the party as well, Yamato put his phone away without reading the messages. Even though she said they would talk later, Yamato felt that Sora was already strategizing how to avoid the conversation. Avoid him. _She knew as well as I that what we did was a mistake._

Yamato was incredibly grumpy by the time he reached the party, which was audible from down the street. He knocked at the door of the house, hoping that the noise would be muffled by the thump of the stereo system and the many attendees' loud conversations, but the door swung open almost immediately and Yamato found himself face-to-face with Taichi.

Taichi roared upon seeing Yamato and pulled him into a bear hug. "HE'S HERE, AOTO!" he shouted across the room, pulling him inside.

"What took you so long?" A handsome man with deep brown eyes and a gaunt face tinged with stubble waded through the crowd to address Yamato.

"I… went for coffee," Yamato said quickly, hoping that Taichi and Aoto were too drunk to see through his unconvincing response.

"Coffee?!" Taichi snorted, pushing his friends through a group of dancing couples to the kitchen. "Yeah, I believe it."

"Looks like you've been gardening," Aoto cracked, wiping dirt off of Yamato's sleeve.

"Whatever, you're here now," Taichi said warmly, offering Yamato a beer from the fridge.

"Yeah," Yamato said dully. "Here I am."

* * *

Posted without much context, I know, but I might expand this into a longer story at some point. This would probably part of a chapter somewhere in the middle of that. Please let me know how I can improve. Thanks for reading!

-c.c.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hooks**

II.

 _ **Tuesday 5:37 PM**_

 _what are you doing this evening_

 _ **Wednesday 9:45 AM**_

 _what are you doing after school today?_

 _ **Friday 12:31 PM**_

 _what's up_

Yamato frowned as he scrolled through his sent messages. As predicted, Sora's reaction to last weekend had been to maintain a comfortable distance from Yamato. _Self-preservation_.

Initially, the sheer memory of that evening would invite a quick burst of adrenaline and temporary feelings of euphoria. Yamato found his daydreaming to be particularly handy during the humdrum of class and band practice. Everything had remained crystal clear in his memory - the texture of her hair, the color of her skin in the cool blue light, the particular floral fragrance that had clung to his coat for days.

As the week progressed and Sora's unwillingness to confront Yamato had become apparent, Yamato noticed he could remember fewer details about that night, but perhaps that was his fault - the rest of that night was spent getting drunk with Aoto and Taichi. Bored, restless, and stuck listening to a monotone lecture at the end of the day, Yamato tried again to recall what it felt like to kiss Sora, and was startled to realize that the memory itself created more anxiety and confusion than joy.

The clock finally hit 3:00, and Yamato's instructor begrudgingly dismissed his students. Yamato joined the scrum of students jostling to exit the classroom and begin their weekends.

Once outside Yamato inhaled deeply, savoring the sensation of the chilly October air filling his lungs. It was Friday, and he had no plans. Aoto had cancelled band practice because he was going to the movies with his girlfriend. Taichi was headed to a club soccer match with his team. The rest of his bandmates hadn't been in contact.

He pulled out his phone again. He had no new messages. His teeth chattered as he drafted a last-ditch message to Sora.

 _ **Friday 3:12 PM**_

 _can we talk?_

Hitting 'send' felt shameful. Yamato knew Sora didn't want to talk to him. If she bothered to reply, she would have a likely excuse to continue avoiding him - tennis practice, or finishing her entrance applications, or work. But to Yamato's surprise, his phone lit up with a hastily-written response:

 _ **Friday 3:13 PM**_

 _yes, sorry - can i come by after 4?_

Yamato stared at the message until the screen dimmed. He replied with a quick, "yea, see you then" and then pocketed his phone. The prospect of finally talking to Sora had created familiar, fleeting feelings of ecstasy - albeit dulled by Yamato's heightened anxieties about the encounter.

By the time Yamato got home he was starving. He hadn't been eating well all week; a consequence of his father's grueling work schedule and Yamato's preoccupation with band practice, the college application season, and the occasional party or gig.

The small apartment that he shared with his father was chilly when Yamato stepped inside, and dark. A tell-tale note and envelope sat on the messy dining room table. Yamato knew without opening it that it was contact information compiled by his father (he was traveling to Sapporo this weekend to report on a political race) as well as some petty cash for groceries. Yamato smiled when he noticed that Hiroaki had re-purposed an envelope from one of his previous business trips, crossing out the date on the front to pen in today's date in a different color ink. There was also a hastily written postscript at the end of his short letter - _Don't spend on cigarettes._

Yamato turned on the heater on his way to the bedroom, shrugging off his jacket, scarf, and school uniform. He pulled on a pair of clean jeans, and the t-shirt and grey cardigan he had worn yesterday, still slung across the back of his desk chair. After retrieving a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, he headed to the small balcony off of the living room to smoke.

After taking the first drag, Yamato felt his hunger pangs start to dissipate and a cool tranquility start to settle in. He collapsed into one of the rickety wooden chairs on the balcony and put his feet up on the railing, observing the skyline of his neighborhood and, just barely visible from his vantage point, the Rainbow Bridge connecting the mainland to Odaiba.

He checked his cellphone and realized with a start that Sora was due in less than a half hour.

He took another long drag and tried to anticipate what she might say, given the distance she had kept from him and their mutual friends this week. _Last week was a mistake_ , most likely. Yamato chewed on a hangnail as he ground his finished cigarette into the overflowing ashtray and went back inside to assess the state of the apartment.

The apartment wasn't a complete disaster, but it hadn't been clean in years, either. His father's job at the news station required long hours and exhaustive research which had slowly crept home with him. The sagging bookshelves in the small apartment were overflowing with Hiroaki's resources - books, overstuffed binders, and precarious piles of manuscripts and newspapers. The dining room table and the living room sofa were the next casualties, slowly become home to the overflow.

Yamato cleared off the dining room table as best he could. The kitchen was remarkably clean. Hiroaki usually was good about doing the dishes, but only because there was rarely any food apart from the usual take-out leftovers. Checking the fridge, Yamato was not surprised to find it bare. Yamato stuffed the money from his father's envelope into his pocket along with his cigarettes, contemplating what he should do about dinner when the buzzer rang.

Yamato's pulse quickened as he buzzed his guest in. He set a kettle on to boil some water for tea, hoping that it would stave off his hunger for the time being.

As the kettle started to whistle, a soft knock came at the door.

"It's unlocked," Yamato called.

The door opened slowly to reveal a very disheveled-looking Sora. She was still wearing her school uniform under her jacket, but had clearly hadn't counted on the cold winds that had ravaged the bay that afternoon. Her teeth were chattering and her hair had been whipped and tangled about her face, controlled only by her worn knit cap.

"You look horrible," Yamato said, before he could stop himself. "I'm making some tea."

Sora didn't seem to mind Yamato's dig at her appearance as she rubbed her hands together for warmth. "Tea sounds great." She kicked off her shoes at the door and pulled her jacket tightly around her as she glanced around the apartment. "Where's Hiroaki-san?"

"On assignment," Yamato replied. "In Sapporo."

"Ah," Sora said, tugging her jacket even tighter around her body as she meandered around the dining room. She finally sat down at the dining room table still awkwardly glancing around for some means of distraction, her left leg jiggling rhythmically under the table.

Yamato picked up the teapot and two mugs and joined Sora at the table. Sora's nervousness felt contagious as Yamato poured the tea, his hands shaking slightly. Sora reached for her cup as Yamato leaned back in his chair, suddenly eager to put a measure of distance between his guest and himself. He resumed picking at his hangnail, deliberately not looking at Sora.

"Say what you came here to say, then."

Sora glanced up. "I… I think we made a mistake."

The conversation went about as well as Yamato expected it to, which is to say badly. After Sora explained why she wanted to "forget that last Saturday happened" and "move forward by just being friends" Yamato's temper began to rise. Everything she said she had clearly thought about beforehand. She had justifications behind her reasoning; she had emotional considerations and appeals; and worst of all, it all made perfect sense. Which is why Yamato hated it. Which is why after every justification, every consideration, and every appeal Yamato had argued back. He knew he didn't make sense. He knew he was acting inconsiderate, rude, and childish. He knew that his sarcastic tone that he usually reserved for people that could handle it (his father, or Aoto) or people he truly hated was causing her grief. He knew all of this, and yet he couldn't stop himself.

His ability to keep his anger in check failed him when Sora brought up Taichi. Yamato slammed his fist on the table violently, startling Sora and causing her to spill a great deal of her tea across the table. She stood up, frowning, to retrieve a towel from the kitchen.

"Sit down," Yamato barked. "I'll get it," he added quickly, hating how Sora - of all people - had brought this hostility out in him.

Sora's eyes narrowed. "No, Yamato," she said coldly, turning back to the kitchen. "This conversation is over." She stalked over to front door where her shoes lay in a heap.

Yamato walked over to where Sora crouched, tying her shoes. He leaned against the door.

Sora stood up to her full height, chin raised, and eyes daring Yamato to stop her from leaving. Despite her defiant posture, Sora seemed paler than usual and her eyes were red, as if she was holding back the urge to cry. Yamato suddenly felt a wave of guilt.

"You're crying," he pointed out.

"I'm not."

Yamato watched her fiddle with the zipper on her jacket. "I'm sorry if I hurt you with what I said earlier," he said, trying to force his voice to sound softer.

"You didn't."

Yamato studied Sora's face for signs of a lie. Her freckles were more pronounced beneath her flushed cheeks. Her wide, dark eyes still seemed to be on the verge of tears. Despite her visible frustration, Yamato found her to be incredibly beautiful in this moment.

He reluctantly stepped away from the door. "You can leave," he started, "but you'll have to talk to me eventually." Words continued to spill out, faster than Yamato felt he could string them together into sentences. "You'll have to deal with my feelings for you just like you had to with Taichi. But it'll be worse, because this time you have feelings, too. And you decided to ignore them. And that's on you."

He watched as his lame, last-ditch effort to keep Sora from leaving caused her shoulders to sag forward. She crossed her arms across her chest and looked down at the floor. Yamato realized in horror that she was finally crying and he had caused it to happen. Her shoulders rose and fell with her shuddering breaths but she made no sound, except to finally address him:

"I thought I liked Taichi at first, you know," she said, almost imperceptibly softly. "I thought that if I was with him, that… over time… that I'd eventually love him. And when I realized I couldn't…"

Yamato's head felt fuzzy as he watched the redhead struggled to maintain her composure. She inhaled deeply, gaining more control over her choked speech in the process. "I can't know that I wouldn't be doing the same thing to you, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hurt you like I hurt Taichi." Tears streamed down her face, reflecting the overhead lights with only a slight movement.

Yamato pondered her words. The fluorescent lights of the kitchen hummed softly overhead. Yamato was glad for the noise to distract from the sound of her trying to control her choked breathing. "Do you remember when you broke your ankle?" he finally asked.

Sora's eyes grew wider, startled by the change of subject. "What?"

"Two summers ago."

Sora stared at him blankly. "Yes, of course, but what does…"

Yamato, fully in fight or flight mode, cut her off. Over the course of the evening he felt like he was being sapped of any and all happiness, yet simultaneously charged with adrenaline as she told him, repeatedly, that they couldn't be in a relationship, it wouldn't work, and various other excuses. It was an uncomfortable sensation, to say the least, and yet now Yamato finally felt that he understood the motive behind the sudden surge of energy.

"We were biking home from school. I don't really remember what we were talking about when you hit the nail. I remember the sound of your tire popping… it didn't make a loud noise, actually... and how it caused your bike to swerve into the curb.

"That all happened so quickly, and I just remember that I heard the noise and looked back, and you weren't on your bike anymore. You were sprawled on the curb, your ankle was trapped in your gears somehow, and your legs and your hands were bloody… when you looked at me, I must have looked terrified… I was terrified… and then you started to cry.

"You never really cry that much, and when I've seen you cry you never made much noise, but that day you sobbed, you were in so much pain. I was calling for an ambulance and explaining what happened, even though I didn't actually know at that point, and I could tell that they were irritated with me because they just asked me to put you on the phone."

Sora chuckled slightly at this memory. Yamato knew it was all narrative she had heard before, but took it as a good sign that she hadn't stopped him from talking yet.

"While we were waiting for the ambulance, I was trying to wash the dirt and blood off your hands and legs with my water bottle, but I was so bad at it that you just snatched the bottle from me and started cleaning yourself. You weren't howling with pain like earlier…"

"I wasn't howling," Sora muttered.

Yamato allowed himself a small grin. "You were howling. I would have howled, too, if my ankle had been twisted like that."

Sora rolled her eyes, wiping her face clear of tears with her coat sleeve. "Where are you going with all this, anyway?"

Yamato raised his hands. "Let me finish, please. Anyway, people on the sidewalk kept coming over and asking you questions and concerning themselves with the situation, and your face was getting redder and redder…

"You hated it. I could tell that you hated people making a fuss over you, so I did my best to tell them off, that everything was under control, that the ambulance was on its way, so you wouldn't have to talk to them. I was really rude to an old man who said he was a retired doctor, actually, I told him to fuck off and stop concerning himself with high school girls..."

Sora made a noise that sounded like a cross between a giggle and a choked sigh.

"The ambulance arrived, and you said something like you'd be fine on your own, but I hopped in with you. The paramedic heard you and asked how I was related to you, and I said that I was your brother."

Sora laughed at that. "Clearly," she said, sarcastically, eyeing Yamato's messy blonde hair.

"Yeah, but he didn't press the issue, thank goodness. I was much taller than him, and it became really clear to me that I made him nervous as we were riding to the hospital.

"Anyway, you were getting properly cleaned up and bandaged by that point. We arrived at the hospital, and I made to go with you as they wheeled you in, but the paramedic stopped me. I remember that I asked you, right in front of that paramedic, 'Do you want me to call your mother?'"

Sora laughed now, shaking her head. "I said no, but you did anyway."

"You said no, but I did anyway," Yamato concurred. "You were getting an X-Ray when she arrived, so they wouldn't take her to see you right away. She was furious, but mostly scared. She kept pestering me and anybody who happened to walk by for details on what happened. When the doctor finally came over to take us to you, she basically pushed me aside and ran right down the hallway to your room, calling your name."

"I was so mortified," Sora recalled.

Yamato chuckled. "Yeah, your face hadn't stopped being red for hours at that point. The doctor looked totally exasperated, but asked if I wanted to see you, too? So I followed her down the hall to your room, where your mother was holding you tightly, and crying…"

Sora's face turned red again at the memory.

"...and that's when I realized something very important about you," Yamato concluded. "You kept pushing people away during that day. You didn't want to impose, you didn't want people to make a fuss over you… and I knew that about you before you sprained your ankle. You're constantly kind to others, constantly supporting your friends and family… but you get so flustered and uncomfortable when anybody - even your closest friends - concern themselves with your well-being.

"At least, that's what I had thought, until I saw how happy you were that your mother was there. I mean, your face was as red as it is now, and you were pleading with her that it was just a sprained ankle and not a big deal... but at the same time, you were hugging her closely, and you wouldn't let go of her hand."

Sora didn't speak, but her face continued to burn. She met Yamato's gaze finally, through heavily bloodshot eyes.

"You love her," Yamato continued, raising a hand to scratch his scalp out of sheer anxiety for what he was about to say next. "I mean, of course you love your mother. You talk about your weird relationship with her to me all the time, and even though you are always frustrated by her, you love her more than anything in this world, I think.

"And that's why I called her, and I'm glad I did. Because I got to witness that moment. And because it helped me understand part of why you are the way you are. I still don't really understand why you put other people's feelings first, before your own - but I realized then how that must impact you, because you so very rarely get to enjoy the affections that you so willingly bestow upon others… and it must be at least part of the reason why you always seem so sad, though I don't think other people see you as a sad person."

Sora's face was impassive again as she stared down at her feet. "What's your point, Yamato?" she muttered.

"My point is…" Yamato struggled against the words that had been sitting in the back of his throat, choking him, for some time. "My point is… that from that moment, I decided that I wanted to know everything about you. I wanted you to tell me everything, and I resolved that I would tell you everything and be honest with you. But… I didn't. We continued to be just friends and keep each other at an emotional distance, and so I never told you… I never told you that in that moment I fell in love with you. And I have been in love with you since then."

Sora's gaze was still fixed upon her shoes when the confession spilled forth. She closed her eyes, and it seemed to Yamato as if she had stopped breathing entirely.

"So, when you worry that you won't be able to know if you have feelings for me or not, I guess… I guess I want you to know that I'm willing to wait. Because I've been waiting. For over a year now," Yamato said, quietly. "I'm sorry that I've been so angry with you the past few weeks and couldn't recognize what you were feeling. Anyway… you can go if you have to go."

With that, Yamato stepped further away from the door allowing Sora passage. She didn't move, however.

Instead, she said it back to him.

* * *

Thank you to those of you who are reading this, and to those of you who left reviews! I'll try to continue updating this as I find time to do so. Thank you for the constructive criticism as well, especially:

 _HartMatters_ \- If I had more motivation, the first chapter of this story would have appeared in the middle of much longer story... but I'm writing it out of order. I felt like I had to add in some context for the parts of the story that I hadn't deigned to explain, but perhaps I went overboard with my context cues. Thanks for pointing that out!

 _Aveza_ \- Thank you for the wonderful review! You pointed out something that I struggle with deeply in my writing, and it's a useful reminder to me to figure out how to balance narrative against plot / universe building. Your own stories have been a great inspiration to me in that respect.

-c.c.


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